If You Only Knew
by Lunar Serenade
Summary: He did not know the truth. But she couldn't help, but wonder what would happen if he did. (Darklaw x Barnham)


_summary;_ _He did not know the truth. But she couldn't help, but wonder what would happen if he did._

 _characters; Darklaw x Barnham (implied)_

* * *

 **If You Only Knew**

 **Darklaw x Barnham**

"Perhaps it would be wise if you rested, Lady Darklaw."

There was a moment of silence. She did not move and refused to offer a response, half hoping the presence would notice she did not wish to be disturbed, that she wanted to be left alone.

When she noticed that the presence remained, she tore her gaze away from the paperwork, turning to see a certain, oblivious, red-haired knight enter her office and draw closer to her.

She ignored his earlier statement and instead asked, "How fares the investigation?"

"The knights and I have turned the Alchemist's home completely on its head, and we are unable to find any clues. No signs of a struggle, no Talea Magica. There isn't even enough information available to develop a list of possible suspects. We're at a loss, milady," he said with a shrug. "We have have been investigating his case for weeks, and I fear the trail has gone cold. There is little more we can do."

Such words made her brow twitch. Her fists tightened, almost shaking.

The sight did not go unnoticed.

"I understand that this case must frustrate you as well. The Alchemist was beloved by all, and everyone feels deeply for his loss. Despite the adversity we have encountered, I swear I will find the witch responsible for this travesty. On my honor as a knight," Barnham pronounced, pounding his fist against his chest plate, an act of loyalty, commitment.

It took all of her willpower to withhold a scoff, quietly turning her gaze down to the paperwork instead.

While his optimism was appreciated, it did not change the truth of the matter – the truth that magic did not exist, that witches did not exist, that a witch did not take her father's life. The investigations she sent the knights out for were not in hopes of finding out who had killed her father. She only wanted to know _why_.

It did not make sense. _It just did not make any sense._ No one hated him. He was a kind and compassionate man, caring so much for the people and their plight. No one would even dream of hurting him.

But she did know how much this entire facade had worn him down. The constant slew of victims and the trauma inflicted on the innocent... all for the sake of protecting _her_ fragile mentality... sure, it bothered Darklaw, but not as much as it bothered her own father.

With all that in mind, it could only mean that the person that took his life was–

The implication caught in her throat, almost making her choke. She struggled to keep her breathing in check. The more she thought about it, realizing the startling reality of this case, she felt as if she was drowning, a pressure crushing down on her lungs.

 _'Keep yourself together... not in front of one of your subordinates...'_

At the moment, sitting in that office was Darklaw. Darklaw had no associations with the Alchemist. Darklaw barely interacted him. She should not feel so strongly over what happened to him.

But at that moment she did not want to be Darklaw. She just wanted to be Eve Belduke, Newton Belduke's daughter, a pawn forced to play in the Storyteller's stupid plan, of his atrocious story gone too far, so far that it caused her father to–

And she almost broke down right there when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

"I understand that this development must distress you... and distress everyone else, of course," Barnham said, faint flickers of candlelight casting golden flecks in his eyes. "If you need any help, do not be afraid to call me for assistance. I would be happy to help in any way I could."

All she could do was stare, noticing his face almost seemed flushed – _no, that was the trick of candlelight._

But this strange feeling in her chest was no trick.

He did not know the truth. It was impossible for him to know it. What happens if he did?

It was an irrational thought, though losing a parent could excuse anyone from rationality. Would he still care, look at her in the way she thought he was looking at her right now – _and a small part of herself hoped that he did_? Would his offer still stand if he did? Would he even understand? Of how her father died from something as insane as this, the true nature of her grief?

"Perhaps we could even try calling upon the Storyteller for assistance. I'm sure he could shed some light on this mysterious situation."

"Hmph, I'm sure he could..."

There it was. Despite what she hoped to believe, he was still like everyone else, blindly trusting in a man who was barely there, not in the way she and her father were. The storyteller called upon fire and death, and at what cost on its citizens? The cost on her? The cost her own father's life?

That was when she figured it out. She knew what had to be done.

No matter what, she just could not drag Barnham down with her.

She scoffed and coolly brushed his hand away.

"No, that is alright. As you said, this case has gone cold. We should not waste any more of our resources over it." There was a pause. She turned her gaze away from his, noticing him grow puzzled by her sudden coldness, but not making a comment about it. "That is why I relieve you of this case. This will be mine and mine alone to solve."

"Are you certain, Lady Darklaw? Surely, there must be something that I–"

"You have done quite enough, Barnham." The chill in her voice silenced him. "You are dismissed."

In her periphery, she could see him square his shoulders, his jawline stiffen. "Of course... as you wish, milady."

With a brusque bow, he left her office without another word or glance. She was left completely alone.

Her lids slid over her eyes as she concentrated on regulating her breathing, trying to dismiss this fierce beating of her heart, forget this warmth lingering on her shoulder and fluttering in her chest.

Then she looked down at the napkin on her desk, at the final gift from her father. It was chocolate eclair - _of course, his last gift would be one of her favorites_ \- and she found the strength to steel her heart and banish everything away.

There was no time for indulging such fancies of her heart or waste time on silly, magical lies. Reality was calling. And she planned on making it hurt like a bitch.

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 _a/n; this is set before the events of pl vs aa and after belduke's death, kinda prequely i guess_

 _also random headcanon - I'd like to think that Darklaw is a lowkey eclair connoisseur. Which is partially a reason why she got so affronted by Barnham's gift, because she knows what proper ones are supposed to look like and they sure as hell weren't like what he gave her lol_

 _thanks for reading~_


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